Compromise Days
by The Blut Series
Summary: Ivan spends most of his nights juggling the police, the black market, his sisters and a troublesome American. However, with his eyes set on Yao and his failing restaurant and with a new vampire on the scene...his nights might become far more exciting.


**So hello everyone, thank you so much for loving this series so far and that is why these spin offs are happening...and plus Lazy Wonderland and I had so many ideas for this universe that we couldn't fit it all into the main storyline.**

 **We hope that the spin offs can be read without reading the main series, but there will be references here and there so if you want to get those then the first book 'Blut Und Knochen' is on my account (Fatal Fandomer) at the moment but will be transferred here eventually.**

 **All in all, this particular spin off will continue for a few more chapters once BUK is complete.**

 **With that done, on with the chapter...**

* * *

"Woah, woah there!" Alfred stuttered as a knife was trailed down his chin and neck. The sudden coldness too sharp. "There's kinky and then there's this." His shocked eyes met gleeful purple. Maybe he had underestimated the Russian, just a little at least.

Ivan gazed hungrily as he dug the knife just above the nipple, Alfred gasping as a trail of blood trickled down his skin. "This was the agreement Jones. if you can't handle it then by all means serve a prison sentence."

Alfred winced as the skin of his wrists were beginning to become raw against the metal of handcuffs, the cut on his skin dribbling red down his body and onto the floor with a slightly rhythmic patter. He weighed up his options though there would only ever be two, always just two. He wouldn't back down. He _refused_ to back down. He was the king in this city and _no one_ would convince him otherwise. He chuckled humourlessly. He leaned forward and tasted the Russian's chapped lips. Toxic. He bit down and cackled as Ivan pulled away. A trail of blood marked both their lips. "Whatya waiting for, Commie?" He dared.

* * *

Ivan wrapped the pink-dyed scarf around his neck as he smiled smugly at his own reflection. His hair was still somewhat messy after being woken in the middle of the day but otherwise he made sure his appearance was as neat and intimidating as ever. The smile faltered. He had learnt in the coldest Russian winters that intimidation was the key to surviving the next day, month or in his case over a century. He remembered in crimson bitterness the destruction of the Tsar's rule, of his part to play within those darkened days.

A hand grasped his clothing to reach his dead heart, trying desperately to make it beat again like those summers long ago; it never would again.

"Mr Braginski?"

Ivan blinked and stared down onto the trembling young man before him. He smiled again. "Ah, Officer Galante, da?" He questioned these random gaps of time. There he was in his home reminiscing of times long lost and now he was stood within the Striges City Police Department with one of the new rookie's looking up at him with glistening eyes.

The young man appeared to be trembling. "Yes Mr Braginski."

"You seem shorter than the last time I saw you."

"I ha-haven't grown, sir."

"That's no excuse. When I was growing up in Russia you did anything not to become too scrawny. Even with all the famine." Ivan said, giggled, and then patted Officer Galante on the head forcefully.

Officer Galante laughed nervously. "U-understood, sir." He shifted on his feet. "Why are you here? I heard you only came during the night shifts."

Ivan tilted his head and analysed this scrawny little human. It seemed the academy was surely lacking decent students these days. He stood up straight and motioned for Officer Galante to walk with him, Galante attempted to hide the fear within his eyes. "True enough, but I hear you acquired one of the regular delinquents of the city."

"Oh, you mean Alfred Jones."

"The very same. He and I are, well, we have known each other for a long time. What has he been charged with?"

"Public disruption, assault, theft, intoxication and-" Officer Galante flicked over a page on his clipboard, "public nudity."

"So nothing new. Good good."

"Good, sir?"

Ivan's face darkened. "Believe me, Officer Galante, Jones is capable of much worse. That'll be all now." Ivan added and shooed the young man aside. No. He would be speaking with Jones alone.

His heavy boots echoed down the brightly-lit corridor and warned other officers to not get in his way. However, four men were too arrogant and flashed in front of him. He stopped short of the elder man's feet and swallowed down any unpleasant comments. "Ah, the Germanic circus has arrived."

"I would stop the charade, we know our appearance isn't pleasant for you." The elder man, Kurt, spoke gruffly. His wisdom and experience had aged his face; a few scars along his eye and cheek told of these miraculous stories. Even so, Ivan was far from intimidating. "I told you before. The disappearance of my eldest is of _no_ concern of yours and your goons. This is a matter the Germanic family will deal with. So," Kurt leaned in closer and tried to loom over Ivan, the Russian just grinned brightly. "Stay out of the way."

"Yeah, you better not-"

"Gilbert, shush."

"You're not the boss of me Roddy, nor is your _pet_."

"It is _Roderich_ , and Miss Hedervary is _not_ a pet. She is someone I respect, as you should too."

Gilbert cackled. "So, if I beat you into the ground you'll give me respect? Because I can do that."

Ivan's eyes fleeted to the third Germanic; young Ludwig suffered silently beside Gilbert, electric eyes on him with mute rage. The Germanics never did cease their habit of poorly acted intimidation and organisation. How cute they were. How bold. He clasped his hands behind his back. "My, my Kurt. It is the job of the police to find a missing person. I have no say in which report they choose to follow up."

"Bullshit!" Gilbert snapped.

"Careful Beilschmidt, remember I am still a regular in that bar of yours. Now, as much as I adore the company I have work to complete." Ivan tried to move through the Germanic Barricade but Kurt whipped a hand around his wrist. He tightened the iron grip. Ivan sighed and decided silence was a good option when Kurt was on the prowl.

"I am entrusting Ludwig to find Otto. And no one, _no one_ will make it harder for him. Understood?"

Ivan tilted his head, saw the bewildered but honoured gleam on Ludwig's face, and chuckled. "As you wish." He replied coldly. He easily removed himself from Kurt's grip and let the irritating bickering fade away. He needed full awareness when it came to Jones. He was smarter than people gave him credit for, no wonder Arthur had drawn to him.

The white walls began to dissolve into a more mundane grey as Ivan entered the cells. The ironic metal bars were beginning to rust as funding was being cut even further. Ivan wondered how Striges City remained afloat, then he gleefully remembered he owned the majority of it. Well, him and the Germanic family. The lingering smell of urine was unpleasant, but not quite as unpleasant as the high-pitched laughing that came from the last cell. "Your senses have improved a lot over the years Jones."

"That's true, but I can smell that vodka-drenched scarf a mile away." Alfred replied, "plus your boots on the floor was like an earthquake over here."

Ivan strolled up and faced the cell. There lay Alfred F Jones. His body was stretched out along the uncomfortable floor as this particular cell had never been fitted with a bed. Ivan tilted his head and smiled onto the troublesome American. "A man is measured by his presence."

"Sounds like you're compensating for something." Alfred stood up with a grunt and gripped the metal bars tightly. His jacket had be strewn in the corner of the cell and his Captain America T-shirt was splattered with blood and his face (though the bruises had already healed) was not as perfectly pristine as it usually was. His dishevelled appearance wasn't exactly abnormal, but to see the proclaimed _King of the Misfits_ beaten and locked up always bettered Ivan's night. "Pull some strings and get me out of here. Now." He commanded.

Ivan just laughed. "Jones, why would I want to do that?"

Alfred snarled. "Because if you don't I'll kill you, that's why." His eyes shone red and his sharpened teeth became bared in a pitiful growl. It was lucky for the both of them that the cell's security cameras were nearly always turned off.

"And how do you plan to do that behind these bars? And please refrain from showing the world our vampirism."

"I'll find a way, I'm an American."

"Jones, you know that means nothing. If it means _anything_ , it means everyone hates you." Before Alfred could speak up Ivan rose a finger. He wiggled it for a second and enjoyed the murderous red gleam to Alfred's eyes. "Now," he pushed a hand into his pocket as he continued, "you call yourself a King, shall we put that to the test? If you can handle this, then by all means you can leave without so much as a fine."

Alfred squinted hatefully as Ivan's hand produced a pair of handcuffs. He rose a questioning eyebrow. "I knew Russians were kinky, but really? This was your fucked up plan all along?"

Ivan shrugged his broad shoulders. "If you wish to hand over your crown-"

"I didn't say that, Commie!" Alfred looked uncertain, perhaps for the first time since becoming a vampire, but then he smiled to bare white teeth. "I can handle anything you throw at me."

Ivan unclasped the handcuffs.


End file.
